everything I need is
by lemoncelloismyname
Summary: (in here.) Rebuilding comes in small steps. Post BotW fic dump.
1. rise and shine, sleepyhead

When Zelda first awoke, the world around her came into focus in slow degrees. The warmth behind her eyes, golden sunlight streaming through the window to caress her face. The softness of the mattress beneath her, the pillow cradling her head. The woolen blanked pulled up over her shoulders.

The presence of another person at her back, an arm thrown lightly over her waist, soft breaths tickling the nape of her neck.

She sighed, and leaned back into the heat behind her, and in his sleep Link muttered something unintelligible and pulled her flush against him. She reveled in the way muscles beneath his skin tensed as he tightened the hold of his arm around her, he steady pounding of heartbeat again her back, the way his legs tangled with hers so easily it was hard to imagine a time when this had not been natural.

Zelda had used to despise mornings, and the hours spent on morning devotionals before breaking her fast, but now - when she got to wake up _like this_ \- they had suddenly become her favourite part of her all around blissful days. She didn't think she'd ever truly get used to this, yet at the same time it was impossible to imagine what things had been like beforehand.

Careful not to make any sudden movements, Zelda shifted around in Link's arms to face him. He looked so peaceful when he slept that it was easy to forget that this man - the one who shared her bed, who slept with his lips curled into a soft frown, who had a light dusting of freckles decorating his nose - was the same one who had defeated the Calamity. She reached up, and gently traced her thumb over his lips, down his cheek, and he shuddered softly, murmuring to himself.

Judging by the angle that the sunlight was hitting the windows it was already long past the time that she should have been getting up, but Zelda did not want to disturb her sleeping partner by attempting to climb over him. He always insisted on lying on the outside of their tiny bed - _we could get Bolson to install a double, but then I wouldn't have to sleep as close to you -_ claiming that the only way he could make her get enough rest was by physically preventing her from rising with the sun evey morning. Zelda suspected that it was because of something more deep rooted, stemming from his need to know she was there - safe - at all times, even if that meant using his own body as a barrier between her and the rest of the world when they slept. To her surprise, this bothered her less than it might have, before. The door was locked and bolted, anyway.

She brushed her hand lightly across his shoulder, fingers absently tracing a path along one of the many scars that tore across his skin, and sighed contentedly. Outside, the birds sang their morning praise to the warm sun overhead.

Eventually, Link stirred beneath her touch, groaning into the pillow. He cracked a bleary eye open to take her in, and she smiled at him. "Good morning," she murmured, reaching up to caress his face again.

He smiled back, sleepily, and the hand that was thrown over her hip spread out to envelope the entirety of the small of her back, fingers drumming lightly against the old tunic of his she wore to sleep in. "You watching me sleep?" he mumbled, shifting closer, enough to bury his face against her hair.

Zelda shuddered as she felt him breath her in. Even after everything they'd done together, it was still the quiet moments like these - with Link's hand trailing lazily down her back to slip under her (his) tunic, twisting the waistband of her undergarments absently around his fingers - that truly excited her the most.

"Yes," she responded, a little breathless. "You're a right sleeping beauty, you know. And you do certainly sleep like one, too. Next thing I know, I'll be needing a convenient princess to ride by and break the spell."

Eyes still half-lidded with sleep, he brought his face down to rest beside hers, so close that their noses brushed. "I've already got one of those," he murmured, breath hot against her lips. "And she's definitely the only one I need." And he closed the distance between them and gently pressed his lips against her own.

Zelda loved all of Link's kisses, but she held - and probably always would hold - a special place in her heart for those that came first thing in the morning, when he had yet to fully awaken. His lips were soft and thorough, movements unhurried - like he was savouring every taste he could - and still a little clumsy with sleep. Link always kissed her like he was a starved man enjoying his first meal in months, but there was something about these kisses that felt so intimate, so special, and it made a pleasant, familiar heat begin pool in her stomach.

She reached up to thread her fingers through his unbound hair and leisurely comb them through the silky strands, humming into his mouth. He responded with a soft groan, using his legs to drag her even closer.

"It's already late enough," she told him, when they'd pulled apart, eventually. "We really need to get up."

Link moaned stubbornly, face curled into a pout that made him look more like an upset child than the Chosen Hero. His thumb brushed along the bare skin at the base of her spine - making her shudder - and he closed his eyes and leaned forward the bury his face in the crook of her neck. "You're ridiculous," he muttered into her collarbone. "The sun has barely risen."

She tutted, sliding a hand down to his bare shoulder, the other still holding him at the back of his head. "I don't know how you can stand to sleep in so late. The day is wasting away as it is."

She felt his lips curl against her neck, and he tiled his head up to meet her gaze. "It's your fault I'm so tired," he said, grinning wickedly. "You're the one that kept me up so late last night."

Zelda flushed red, and Link's laughs tickled the sensitive skin at the base of her throat. "We've already saved Hyrule," he murmured against her skin, when he'd stilled again. "We deserve a day off."

"That's what you said yesterday," she muttered, but made no move to push him away.

Link planted his forearm into the mattress beside her head, and used it to push it up so that he was leaning over her, looking down. His eyes were dark, almost _hungry_ as he dragged his gaze over her, gnawing at his bottom lip with his teeth. It was still amazing how quickly he seemed to be able to go from zero to one hundred; a side effect of his impossibly fast reflexes, she guessed. Despite herself, Zelda shivered at the deliberate way his eyes moved down her body, over her collar, her chest, the exposed skin of her stomach where her tunic had ridden up. He was definitely wide awake, now.

"How about we compromise, then?" he murmured, the lightness in his tone juxtaposed by the ravenous look he was giving her. "We can stay in bed, but we have to so something... productive with our time."

Suddenly, the feeling of his right hand against her hip did not feel at all innocent, oh no. His fingers were digging into her skin like knives, holding her there, and his jaw was set as he searched her face, waiting for her response.

In her chest, her heart swelled so much that she thought it might burst. Even now, he still waited for her affirmation before moving ahead, still always seemed to put her wishes well above his own, and she loved him all the more for it.

Still, she lay back and pretended to contemplate his suggestion, digging her teeth into her bottom lip and privately reveling in the way the muscles in his neck and shoulders strained in reaction. Two could play his game, after all. "I suppose I could take you up on your offer," she drawled, deliberately dragging a finger down his chest. "Provided we don't waste another second of time." And she grinned.

Above her, Link released the breath he had been holding, and Zelda positively melted as he crashed forward and pinned her to the mattress.


	2. do you seal me?

**AN: This fic is rated T for Too Many Puns. I am so sorry.**

Zelda felt oddly bare without Link's presence at her side, not that he was needed in here. The Gerudo had warriors stationed at every turn, and she didn't exactly feel unsafe. It was just, well... disconcerting, to not have her usual shadow watching her back. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been out in Hyrule without him, knew that it had to be well over a century ago. His constant presence beside her, the weight of his gaze, his mumbled barbs and quips, the hikt of the Master Sword poking out over his shoulder - all of these were a steady reassurance that Zelda had found herself coming to rely on, perhaps a bit too much.

Waking up alone, in a too-big bed with a cold, empty spot beside her, had hardly been a pleasant experience, either.

Chief Riju had met her outside the inn that morning, and was now leading her through the waking town square. Zelda liked the girl, she had decided, who was currently speaking to her with an unbridled excitement, hands gesturing wildly. She was sweet, and very sincere.

"Buliara has gone ahead to prepare our rides," Riju was saying. "We are to take sand seals across the desert; I'm sure you know that that is the mot effective way of travelling, here. Buliara told me that you do not feel confident enough to ride by youself, but she informs me that they have found a seal strong enough to pull two people along."

Zelda already knew this, she and Link had discussed the logistics the night before, leaning against the walls of the city and watching the Sun sink into the never-ending desert beyond. Her chest twinged slightly when she remembered the mournful look he'd given him, when she'd quietly excused herself. It wouldn't be proper, for a Princess to turn down the hospitality of her hosts because she wanted to sleep with her knight. He'd understood, and bid her goodnight with a gentle hand squeeze.

Despite all the work she needed done, Zelda found herself quite excited at the prospect of today's plans. An excursion to see one of the greatest marvels of Hyrule - the temple to the Seven Heroines - felt like just what she needed.

Out through the town's main entrance, they rounded a corner and came to find Buliara and a few other Gerudo soldiers, along with a cluster of sand seals. She spotted her knight, then, kneeling a little off from the group, fully immersed in scratching the hide of the sand seal in front of him, the same way she'd seen him petting stable dogs in the past.

Riju had apparently followed her gaze. "That's Patricia, my personal sand seal," the young Chief said, adoration thick and tangible in her voice. "Isn't she beautiful?"

Zelda hummed in agreement, although privately she thought that the ting erred more on the side terrifying; long, sharp white tusks contrasting ferociously against its dark hide, brow curled into an angry snarl. There was something about its eyes too, something dark and unsettling. She swallowed.

Link produced an apple and offered it to the sand seal, who barked delightedly and chomped it down in one mouthful, nearly taking Link's hand with it. He looked up at the Gerudo woman holding the harness, who said something, and Link _laughed_ \- a rich, full, proper laugh that had him throwing his head back a little as his shoulders shook. Zelda felt the stirrings of warmth in her chest, and she had to forcibly drag her eyes away from her knight's grin-split face.

Beside her, Riju continued. "Patricia is no ordinary sand seal, you see." She sounded proud.

"How so?"

Riju's eyes gleamed. "She has divination abilities," the girl explained. "She gives out advice in exchange for fruit, and can even discern glimpses of the future. Wildberries are her favourite, but she'll eat anything, really."

Zelda fought to keep a startled laugh from bursting from her throat. _What?_ She glanced at Riju, expecting to find her having some bizzare joke at Zelda's expenses, but the young Chief's eyes were earnest, fully serious.

"You... you have a talking sand seal?" she asked, weakly.

Riju let out a laugh. "A talking sand seal?" she echoed. "Heroines, no. That would be far too silly. No, Patricia's words can only be heard by a very select few. Padda, her handler, can translate for you." She started forward. "Link has just offered her some food, if we hurry we might hear what divinations she has for us today."

Zelda took off after the girl, still reeling slightly. Yes, a talking sand seal. _That_ would be far too silly.

As they approached, Patrica began to leap up and down in the sand, barking excitedly. Link was looking up at the Gerudo woman with a sly grin of amusement - Padda, Zelda assumed - who in turn was glaring back down at him. This look, however, quickly vanished when she presumably spotted the pair of them approaching. Link turned to shoot her a grin.

"Chief, Princess Zelda." Padda dipped her head in a short bow, and Patricia leaped up into the air at the sight of her mistress.

"I was just telling Princess Zelda about my darling Patricia," Riju gushed, "and about her amazing abilities." She knelt down in front of the sand seal, and began to enthusiastically scratch her hide. "Yes, you are talented, aren't you?" she cooed to the seal, tone not dissimilar to the way one might interact with a small child. "You're the best girl in the whole world."

Link sat back on his hunches, giving Patricia the space she needed to attack her owner with a barrage of sloppy kisses. His sly grin had returned. "Padda," he said, slowly, deliciously, "do tell us what Patricia has said today."

Zelda blinked as the Gerudo woman shot him another glare, lips no doubt twisted into a scowl beneath the mask that covered her lower face. What in Hylia's name was going on here?

Padda coughed. "Lady Patricia said, and I quote, 'Those who attempt to sand surf with damaged shields are very silly.' You hear that? _Silly."_

What in Hylia's name..?

"Oh, you're such a clever girl, aren't you? Aren't you?" cooed Riju, and Patricia licked the girl's face enthusiastically.

"I'll get you one day, Padda, you'll see," Link said, apparently unperterbed by whatever had just happened in this little game he was playing. He turned to look up at Zelda. There was that grin again, the one so wide it threatened to split his face in two, his eyes crinkling at the edges, loose strands of hair wafting gently in the hot breeze. "Well, are you ready to set seal?"

Padda and Buliara both groaned, and Riju giggled. Zelda stared at him incredulously. Did Link - the same Link who she used to struggle to draw full sentences out of - did he just make a pun?

Buliara spoke with her usual clipped tone. "If all voe are as bad as you, then I am very glad that our traditions allow you to bar you from our city. Between you and Patricia, you have already started to corrupt the Chief!"

Link pushed himself to his feet with his sword. "I'm sure you'll start to seal the funny side, one day." When no one else said anything he added, "Seal we get going, then?"

It had been over a hundred years since Zelda had last sand surfed, and even then that had hardly given her much experience. She'd managed to hang on for barely half a minute before she'd found herself half buried in a sand dune, Urbosa's delighted cacked echoing across the desert like a clap of thunder. Now, as she stepped onto the front of knight's shield that Link had pulled out of thin air - _more room for the pair of us on this one,_ he'd said, yesterday - she was starting to doubt herself. The smooth metal beneath her sandles felt awfully slippery.

But then she felt him standing behind her, sand seal reigns dangling loosely in one hand. The shield shifted beneath her feet as he stepped onto it, tilting her side slightly into the air, and slipped his arms around her waist, holding the reign handle out in front of them. When he spoke, his honey-coloured voice caressed her ear like silk, and Zelda shivered. "Did you miss me last night?"

She placed her hands between his on the handle, allowing her right pinky to press against his thumb. "Yes," she murmured. "Yes I did. Terribly." She felt Link's chest tighten against her back. "And did you?"

He pressed a soft kiss behind her ear - barely more than a brush of his lips, really, but even so Zelda melted into him, tilting her head to the side and gasping lightly. "More than you could ever imagine," he responded, voice low, strained, and she could practically feel his gaze burning into her skull.

Beside them, Riju gave a cry of delight, and she and Patricia launched forward down the sand dune. "Seal you at the finish line!" the girl called back to them, laughing, even as her own personal guard cursed and hastened after her.

Link smiled against her hair. "Remind you of anyone?" he asked, voice light.

Zelda started. "Link!" she exclaimed. "I wasn't that bad!"

"No," he agreed, solemnly. "You were much worse." He shifted backwards, once again maintinging a much more proper distance between the pair of them. "Hold on tight, Princess." She felt him tug on the reigns, and then they were off.

Zelda nearly flew backwards at the sudden forward momentum battering into her like a sledgehammer, and she slammed into Link's chest, just about managing to cling on to the handle in front of her. The wind whipped in her hair, her clothes, against her face, the sensation dragging her back to an experience from long ago, of sitting on the back of a Rito as he flew her up to Vah Medoh.

She opened her mouth and released a delighted laugh, then immediately slammed it shut again as the wind the blew a small mouthful of sand in.

Link chucked against her ear. "That's a lesson learnt the hard way."

She ignored him, more than content to simply focus on the experience as she lived it, of the rush of air against her skin, of the leaping in her stomach every time they crested a sand dune and were launched fleetingly into the air, of the genuine feeling that she was actually flying. Link had been right; the experience was a thousand times more enjoyable when she didn't have to worry about handling the beast herself.

All in all, it was over far to quickly.

She voiced this thought aloud as she stepped from the shield - having reached their destination at the far end of the Palu Wasteland - and Link laughed. "Don't forget we've still to get back somehow," he said, and his eyes sparkled in the sunlight.

Nearby, the rest the party was also dismounting and unharnessing the sand seals, presumably so they could have a break. Riju came bounding over towards them, long hair more than a little ruffled from the wind, followed by Buliara, two other soldiers, and another Gerudo that Zelda did not recognise.

"Nice to seal that you finally got here," Riju said, grinning mischievously. "I was beginning to think you'd gotten lost." Behind her, Buliara shot Link a look that could only mean _See? Look what you've turned her into!_

"If I'd known it was a race," Link retorted, "then I'd have taken it a bit more sealiously."

They were acting like children - although Riju was technically still a child, she supposed. Still, it was rather endearing, if a little odd.

"Oh!" Riju exclaimed, suddenly. "Pardon my manners, Princess! You haven't been introduced to Rotana yet." And as if on cue, the Gerudo woman stepped forward and bowed to her. "Rotana is an archaeologist," Riju explained. "I invited her along so that she might tell us some of the history of this place."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Rotana," Zelda said, smiling warmly. Beside her, Link cleared his throat.

Riju glanced at him quizzically, then seemed to catch on to something. "Yes, of course, you haven't met Link -the Princess Zelda's appointed knight - yet either. How could I forget?" And then she giggled.

Zelda looked at the young Chief. She had that mischievous look about her again, like she was hiding some secret from them. Rotana seemed to be staring at Link, brow furrowed, a small frown on her face. Her knight shifted uncomfortably, probably not enjoying being at the centre of attention.

"Shall we keep moving, then?" she asked. Riju lead the way.

Zelda's first sighting of the Seven Heroines stole her breath away. They were magnificent; seven towering figures cut cleanly from the rock behind them, each welding a massive sword. It reminded her, in a way, of the first time she'd ever laid eyes on a Divine Beast; works of sheer architectural and technological marvel that had suvived the eons, works that her people could never hope to recreate.

"They are stunning, aren't they?" murmured Rotana. "Truly a wonder of society."

Zelda nodded. "Lady Urbosa always spoke of them fondly. I meant to go with her to see them, once, but I never got the opportunity..." She trailed off, thoughts suddenly falling to the friend that she'd lost.

Riju spoke up. "Tell us more about your research, Rotana."

Zelda listened politely as Rotana spoke of the ancient texts she had discovered, and was in the process of deciphering. She had heard the story of the Seven Heroines a century ago herself, but didn't mind listening again. If she concentrated hard enough, she could almost imagine that it was Urbosa standing beside her, that it was Urbosa describing the sudden appearance of a shrine in the centre of the ring.

Later, she found herself perched on the aforementioned shrine's platform, Sheikah slate in hand as she recorded as much of what Rotana had said as she could remember, pausing occasionally to capture a photo of the statues. At this distance it was easier to see their faces, fiercely grave and blank and impassive, in a way that reminded her of kneeling in a pool of freezing water with her hands clasped and her head bowed, at the mercy of a goddess who refused to answer.

The hot air of the desert seemed to turn to ice around her, and Zelda shivered.

 _There was nothing more you could have done, Princess,_ Urbosa would have said. _We were all wrong about your powers, so why should the blame fall just to your shoulders?_

She was right, although Zelda knew she would likely never accept that.

She shifted back and set the slate down beside her, content to sit back and enjoy watching her companions. Link, Rotana and Riju were all crowed around a pit at the base of one of the statues, Buliara standing a little off from them and leaning on her long sword in a perfet imitation of the Heroine behind her. The two Gerudo seemed to be listening intently as Link explained something, hands gesturing between the pit and its corresponding statue rather zealously.

 _Sealously,_ Zelda thought, then giggled.

This was a moment worth capturing, she decided, lifting the slate again. She pressed the button at just the right time; Link throwing his head back to laugh at something Riju had said - no doubt another thrice-damned seal pun - while the young Chief giggled. The image also managed to capture Buliara, lurking in the corner with a storm cloud hanging over her head. Zelda smiled as she looked down at the screen; she'd have to figure out a way to create a solid copy of her photos, the way the had been able to before. Something to ask Purah, the next time they spoke.

The Sun had already dipped behind the looming cliffs when Link came to get her. "We need to get back to Gerudo Town before night falls," he said, as he offered his hand to pull her up. Zelda took it, savouring the brief contact of her skin against his hand, her fingers lingered against his palm even when she'd found her feet again.

His eyes met hers, dark and unyielding, and she swallowed, mouth dry.

"Hurry up, you two!" called Riju. "We sealiously need to get going, here."

The spell broke, and Zelda released the breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding. Link let go of her hand, and inclined his head sideways. His eyes hadn't left her face. "Coming?"

She nodded, following him. "You know," she said, as they trekked across the sand together, "it's rather odd, isn't it, how they are referred to as 'sand seals'. The large tusks and the more angular body shape gives more of an impression of a walrus than a seal. Although, I suppose you cannot fault anyone from a desert for not being able to distinguish between their aquatic animals."

Link was looking at her again, with an expression that seemed to betray bemused wonder. "Sand walrus doesn't have quite the same ring to it, either."

"No, it doesn't," Zelda agreed. And then, "I suppose you could say it sounds rather _seally._ "

Now it was Link's turn to stare at her in shock, which Zelda left him to, greeting Riju with a warm smile. "I'm sorry for keeping you," she said. "Are we ready to depart?"

They were indeed, and soon Zelda found herself once again hurtling across the sands like the wind, the feeling of soaring through the air causing her stomach to drop delightfully.

Across the desert, the sunset looked beautiful, their view of the Sun disappearing into the horizon uninhibited by hills or mountains. The sky was a truly magnificant sight, reds and blues and pinks and oranges all smeared across it in wild strokes, like a canvas painted by the Goddesses themselves. Zelda wished more than anything that she could capture it with the Sheikah slate, wanted to remember this moment forever, but decided that - even in her new found ability to actually stay on the shield long enough to get somewhere - letting go of the harness with both hands was perhaps not her best idea.

Link cleared his throat. "How about you try steering for a while?" His breath ticked the back of her neck. "It's easy enough; you just tilt right when you want to go right, and vice versa."

"I-" Urbosa's eyes were glimmering in her head, her smile thin and knowing as she said, _You need to learn to live a little, Princess._ She swallowed. "Alright."

Immediately she felt Link's grip slacken on the handle, replaced by the overwhelming strength of the sand seal as it plowed through the ground in front of them. She was half afraid to watch, certain that she'd end up nose deep in a sand dune like last time, Urbosa cackling over her. It's easy enough, he'd said. Easy. Easy. Easy.

She was a Princess of Hyrule; she could steer this thrice-damned sand walrus just as well as everyone else.

In front of them, Riju steered sharply to the right, and Zelda followed her, actually followed. She managed to keep her joy contained this time - her reward did not need to be another mouthful of sand, even if that was infinitely better than a face-full - but still allowed her lips to curl into a wide grin. They kept going.

"You know, Link," she said eventually, "I'm beginning to believe that this isn't as hard as you make it out to be."

He grunted. "We'll see if you still think that when you've got the harness tied around your waist and you're trying to fire your bow off at the molduga that's been chasing you for several miles."

"Perhaps another time," she responded, a little faintly. She forgot, sometimes, about Link's uncanny ability to put himself in perhaps the most outlandish situations he could find and come out with barely a scratch.

At that moment the shield they were both standing on must have hit a rock or something - not that the details mattered, really - because Zelda suddenly felt it shoot out from underneath her, and she shrieked as she was launched into the air. Behind her, she was aware of Link cursing, then she felt a pair of strong arms tighten around her waist as he pulled her into him.

They tumbled across the sand dune together, limbs impossibly intertwined, coming to rest at the bottom of the trough, with Link on his back and Zelda sprawled out half on top of him.

"Ow," Link said, groaning. He lifted his head, brow furrowed, eyes darting over her, reflexively assessing her condition the way he always did. "You alright?"

She inhaled a shaky breath and nodded, fingers coming up to tighten in his hair. "Yes," she breathed. "Yes, I am. Are you?"

Link hummed in assent, making no move to push her off. This was the closest they'd been in days; so close that she could feel his breath against her cheeks, his chest rising and falling beneath her, so close that it would take next to nothing to close the distance between them and...

"You should probably get up, before Buliara accuses you of trying to grope me," Link said. He looked amused, and she could feel his chest rumbling with every word.

She flushed, and he laughed. "Right- oh, yes. Of course."

She scrambled off him and offered him a hand, which he took, a quiet laughter still bubbling in his eyes. The rest of their party had stopped to wait for them. Link recovered the shield - it had been a rock, she noted - and together thy made their way towards the place were their sand seal had stopped.

"That was a rookie mistake Link - what would Tali say if she had seen that?" Riju called, also laughing. "One might even say that you _seal_ have a lot to learn."

"That was shocking," Link bit back. And then, "It was Zelda's fault, anyways."

She swatted at him. "Hey!"

Urbosa's joyous cackle echoed in the way that both Link and Riju doubled over, laughing at her.

They reached the looming walls of Gerudo Town without further incident, the Sun just dipping behind the horizon, and - just like last time - the sand seal ride was over all too soon.

"Well," Link said, stepping back from her to maintain that respectful distance she so loathed. "I hope you enjoy your night, Princess."

She nodded, not looking at him. How unfair this was, that she got to spend an evening feasting with the Gerudo while he was left outside. "What are you going to do?"

Link paused. "I think I'll hire this sand seal out for a bit longer, maybe go visit the great fairy."

Zelda raised a brow. "You're not going to get some sleep?"

Link shrugged. "I slept last night."

She stared at him. "You're a maniac, you know that?"

"You love it."

There as a cough from behind them - Buliara, no doubt - and Zelda dragged herself back into the present. "Goodnight then, Link," she mumbled, gaze dropping to the floor.

His hand darted out and took hers, and she watched in surprise as he interlocked their fingers and raised her hand to his lips. He pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles - chaste, yet at the same time so, so not - and murmured into her skin, "Goodnight, Princess." She fought the shudder that threatened to tear though her body at his touch, at his hot breath against her skin, at the look in his eyes as his gaze met hers, dark and brimming with promise.

But then he released her, and stepped away, and they were the Princess and her knight once more.

Link's gaze moved to their companions, and there was that grin again, eyes crinkling, lips split into a joyous smile. "I'll seal you later then, Chief, Buliara," he said, and Zelda had to laugh at the almost devious tinge to his voice.

Still, her heart broke a little as the group made its way towards the city, leaving Link and his sand seal alone in the desert for the night.

Riju looked excited as they passed under the archway that led back into the town. The moment they were out of earshot of the guards, she turned to Zelda, eyes gleaming mischievously. "So," she said, voice bubbly, "you and Link, you are a couple, then?"

Zelda gaped at the girl for a moment, then stopped, remembering all the times Urbosa had told her she looked like a fish with her mouth hanging open like that. "I... I suppose so," she said, weakly.

Riju stepped closer to her. There was something almost terrifying about how inquisitive the young girl looked. "And does he make a good mate?"

Zelda spluttered, even as Buliara barked "Chief!" behind them.

"I-" Riju looked suddenly distraught. "I'm sorry if I have offended you in some way." She looked a bit like a dejected puppy in the way her eyes widened and her bottem lip quivered slightly. Zelda's heart ached for her, ached for this child that had been forced to grow up far too quickly.

"No, it's fine," she said, kindly. "I just wasn't expecting such a personal question, that's all." She hesitated, and felt a warm blush beginning to spread beneath her veil. "And yes," she murmured, "I suppose that you could say that Link makes a good... that he makes a good partner."

The silence that followed was broken by a cough from Buliara. "Well, if you don't mind me saying," the older Gerudo drawled - voice as dry as the desert stretching out around them - "the pair of you certainly have my seal of approval."


	3. things my heart used to know

**AN: This was written in lieu of a fic where a pre-Calamity fight Link waltzes around the ballroom by himself, hallucinating people from his past and singing 'Once Upon a December' from the film Anastasia. There's a gorgeous piano version on YouTube, which I listened to while writing this.**

"Do you know how to dance, Link?"

Zelda had turned to face him, her hand still lingering on the torn tapestry that hung against the wall like a boneless limb. A cloud of dust floated in the air between them, shifted from its century long slumber when Link had forced the doors to the ballroom open.

He bit his lip, chest aching at the melancholy brimming in her eyes. "I..." How did he respond to a question that he himself did not know the answer to? "You're going to have to be a bit more specific, dancing is a very vague term."

She raised a brow, and her lips curled upwards ever so slightly. Link knew that smile; it was the one that never quite managed to reach her eyes, the one that spoke of bravery in defeat, not quite able to hide the slump in her shoulders, the miniscule tremble of her bottom lip. Her voice was quiet, forced. "Oh, I hadn't pegged you as an expert, now."

An expert was the exact opposite of what he was; in all honesty Link had no idea if he'd ever partaken in any form of dancing at all before. "I do a good imitation of the Goron war chant," he offered, weakly. "Grunts and all."

Zelda hummed, eyes glazing over as she focused on some point over his shoulder, likely watching something he couldn't see. She took off then, gliding like a ghost across the open floor, face eerily blank, as if she'd been hypnotised. Link followed a few paces behind, one eye on her back, the other keeping watch for one of the few monsters he knew to be still lurking in the castle.

Even if he couldn't remember, Link could still imagine what this place must have looked like, a hundred years ago. Walls thick with ornate tapestries spouted from the ground to give way to high, sloping ceilings, decorated with intricate-looking chandeliers - one of which had since toppled to the floor below, and now lay smashed to pieces. Sunlight streamed in through the towering windows, causing the dust in the air to swirl and catch in the golden rays. Candelabras grew out of the stonework like branches - hundreds of them - enough to illuminate the entirety of the vast hall in an orange glow once the Sun had set. He imagined long tables of food at the outer edges of the dance floor, the elegant music of a waltz or the lively sound of a polka, the gentle hubbub of polite chatter amongst the attendees.

As they crossed the dance floor together, Link could almost picture the dancers themselves, swirling around him in perfect synchronicity, the men in formal wear, the women delicately holding their thick skirks out from their bodies with gently arched wrists. He could only imagine what it was like for Zelda, standing in this room. His ghosts were blurry and transparent as they glided about him, drowning in thick fabrics and sparkling gems, whilst hers had names and faces.

She reached the centre of the hall and stopped, twirling to face him again. Link could picture her then, in a rich, ornate dress similar to the one she'd worn at his knighting ceremony - skirt flying out around ger as she spun - a shimmering golden circlet perched in her golden hair. She'd have been beautiful, he decided. She always was.

"Do you remember that last ball that was held in here, Link?" his Zelda asked, back in her rags again; second hand boots that were scuffed at the toes and a spare tunic of his that was practically drowning her, a thick belt clinching it at her waist. She wasn't looking at him, eyes tracing the ground beneath her feet, fingers curled in the ends of her too-long sleeves.

He shook his head, mutely.

Zelda sighed, leaning back to look upwards, and drew her hands up until they were clasping at her shoulders, wrapping herself in her own embrace. "It was supposed to be in honour of my father's birthday," she mumured, wavering slightly where she stood, "but in actuality it was a ploy to distract the court from the looming Calamity." She smiled bitterly. "My inadequacies were the talk of the castle, back then."

Link dug his nails into the piece of clothing in his hands, swallowed, said nothing. In front of him, Zelda swayed to a piece of music that he couldn't hear.

"My father had reprimanded me earlier that day - I'd missed a service at the shrine to Hylia the day before because I was out riding with you - and I hadn't spoken to him since. We danced together that night, as was traditional, opening the evening with a waltz, and he didn't say a word to me the entire time." She broke off, and stared at the floor, face curled into an angry frown, and whispered, "Goddesses, how could I have been so stupid..?"

He wanted desperately to reach out, to comfort her, but he forced himself to remain still and listen. With Zelda, he had discovered, it was best to let her get all of it out, and then to console her later - perhaps so many years of being heard but not listened to had weighed her down, along with everything else.

In his hands, he twisted the little piece of history that they'd found earlier, the odd looking navy cap - a beret, Zelda had called it, almost smiling fondly - that had been part of the Royal Guard's uniform, before. Link had thought it looked stupid, and more than a little impractical, but he'd still lifted one from the barracks earlier. Saving it from the looters, he'd told himself.

He'd worn one of these, once.

Zelda had that far away look in her eyes again."My parents met at a ball," she was murmuring, a wistful smile stretching across her face. "My father asked my mother to dance with him, and they ended up dancing the night away. I heard the story often. When I was younger I used to sneak in here and pretend I was dancing with my own handsome prince, that is, until someone saw me and I suddenly realised how ridiculous I must have looked." She gave another small twirl, hands releasing from their death grip on her upper arms to swing loosely about her body.

That would have been a sight and a half, Link thought, unable to stop a small smile from claiming his face at the image of a young Zelda, flushed and out of breath and giddy with laughter as she spun in hapless circles by herself. He swallowed it. "From what I remember of you before," he murmured, "you never quite struck me as the romantic type."

Her eyes flashed with something that might have been amusement, but it faded quickly. The humour in her voice was paper thin. "I'll try and take that as a compliment," she said, then faded away again. Link watched her as she stared at the floor, watched the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she frowned, teeth worrying at her lower lip, brow furrowed.

Eventually, she met his gaze again. "Would you like to dance, Link?" she asked, quietly. "Of course, normally it is traditional for the man to ask the woman, but I rather think our tradition was burned to the ground a hundred years ago."

He blinked at her. "I'm not a prince," he observed, voice light but low.

Zelda examined him critically. "No," she said, "but you'll do."

Despite himself, Link laughed. "I'll try and take that as a compliment." Then he bowed low, flicking the beret out to the right with a flourish and crossing his ankles as he bent into his knees. "Would you do me the honour of this dance, Princess?"

There was that smile again, about as solid as a snowflake in the desert, barely a thin coat of paint covering the misery underneath. This time a small, dim spark reached her eyes, like an ember left behind by a raging fire. "It would be my pleasure, Sir Link," she replied, softly.

Stuffing the beret into his belt, he offered her his left hand, which she guided to her upper back, placing her right hand on his shoulder. Their other hands clasped - chaste and delicate - and Zelda lifted them up to around about his ear height. She drew herself up, and again Link saw the Princess in her, could imagine the heavy jewelery hanging around her slim neck, bangles cuffed around her wrists like shackles. He mimiced her posture, stepping back slightly to maintain what would have been the proper distance between them.

"Not bad," Zelda breathed, drawing her eyes down over his form.

Link felt a dry quip coming on. He surpressed it, and waited for her to speak.

She did. "The waltz is in three time," she explained, voice flat, detached. Link wondered if she was reciting from memory, wondered how many hours she'd spent on dancing lessons growing up. "When you step forward I step back, and so on. You're supposed to lead, but I'll push you around a bit until younget the hang of it. Ready?"

Link nodded, and then Zelda began to hum, so faintly that he had to strain his ears to hear her. So surprised was he that when she stepped forward he forgot to move, and she nearly stood on his toe. He muttered an apology, and the smile returned.

Soon, however, they found themselves falling into an easy rhythm, Link letting instinct take over from his whirring brain. The ballroom was deathly silent, save for the rhythmic _one-twothree one-twothree_ of their feet against the ground, and Zelda's quiet humming. Link wasn't at all surprised at his apparent ability to dance - he'd discovered so many of his skills in the past year-and-a-bit by blindly leaping before he knew if his feet would hit the ground.

Zelda seemed to have noticed too, for eventually she spoke up. "So you have done this before, then?"

Link half shrugged. "I assume so."

Confusion bled into sudden understanding, and for a moment she stilled, brow furrowed. Her voice caught a little when she spoke. "So then this is all muscle memory?"

"Yes," he said, adding, "I didn't know I could fight, either, until a bokoblin jumped at me and I killed it with a tree branch." And how long ago that seemed, perhaps a hundred years before he'd knelt at her feet in the Sacred Grounds, as opposed to after.

Zelda half nodded, staring at his shoulder. She'd gone, again, lost in another time. Link didn't blame her.

Eventually they lost all semblance of the formal waltz posture, Zelda's right hand moving to cup the back of his neck, while his left slid down to the small of her back, fingers spread wide to grasp as much of her as possible. They drew closer together - close enough that he could feel her warm breath against his throat - her head practically tucked under his chin, hair tickling the tip of his nose, and their clasped hands lost some of their stiffness, lowering towards their bodies.

Being here, in the impossibly lavish ballroom of Hyrule Castle - surrounded by a swirling mass of dancing shadows - was starting to give Link a vague sense of just what had been lost to the Calamity. It was a sobering feeling, in the way that it was sobering to stand amongst the ruins of a village in Hyrule Field and absently wonder what the lives - and deaths - of the people who lived there had been like; regretful, but detached. It felt like he was mourning for something that had happened eons ago, similar to standing at the foot of the gigantic Goddess Satue in the Forgotten Temple and wondering who had built it.

It was guilt he felt, more than anything, Link realised suddenly. Grief, yes, but distant and generalised for the vague sense another life that he had lost. Guilt, however, was what plagued him when he stared at this shattered palace and thought of the thousands that had died because of his failure.

Which, of course, begged the unanswerable question; was it better to have the memories of your loved ones, even if they might hurt, or to never know what you'd lost?

He wasn't sure he wanted the answer, not that he'd ever get it.

"Do you regret coming back here?" Link asked, finally.

Zelda quietened and tilted her head back to look at him, and instantly his ears mourned the loss of her humming against his neck. "I... I had thought, you know," she breathed, voice thick with sorrow, "that I might get some... some closure from, well, from just being here, but now I..."

Finally, their feet drew to a halt mid step, and Zelda looked down again and murmured, "During our travels, I noticed that there was still a small part of my brain that had forgotten about the- about everything that had happened, and was still expecting to return here and find all as we left it a hundred years ago when we set out for Mount Lanayru." She swallowed, fingernails digging into his skin. "I had thought that, in coming back here, that I might be able to dispell that feeling, that I might be able to see what had happened and finally move on, but... but-"

And suddenly, Zelda threw herself against his chest and *sobbed*, uncontrollable shudders wracking throigh her body like the repeated shocks earthquake. Link wrapped both of his arms around her waist, and together they sank to the floor, him with his face buried in her hair, her with her fingers curled in the front of his tunic, sobbing and gasping and sobbing and gasping until she could barely breath.

His eyes were hard as he stared over the top of her head, looking at the throne in the distance, looming over them like a shadow. "Shush," he breathed, dragging his fingers through her hair in what he hoped were soothing motions. "Shush, it's alright. I'm here, I'm here."

Rain splattered on the ground beneath their feet, battered at the canopy of leaves. They ran, both panting for breath. Her hand slipping from his. Mud on her dress, his trousers, his boot. Grey skies overhead. Zelda's tears soaking his tunic. Pain pain pain.

 _I've left them... all to die._

This time, he sat back, drawing her into his lap to lean against his chest. Her hands clawed against his clothing, pulling him closer, closer, and his arms slid around protectively around her waist. She buried her face in his neck, pitiful shudders still tearing through her body, breath hot as she gasped against his skin.

Suddenly, Link felt a different memory stirring in his head.

A... a small wooden box, beautifully carved with swirling patterns like the sea, perched on the corner of her desk. The lid lifted, and a tiny figurine spun, its silver dress rigid and unmoving, hands frozen above its head. A clinking sound of music - the tune she'd been humming earlier, he realised. _This was my mother's once,_ Zelda had said with her paper thin smile, and Link had looked at her and wondered if she'd shatter into a million pieces under his touch. In his gut, a taboo sense of longing for someone he could never have.

Now, in the dust covered ballroom of Hyrule Castle, the Princess shuddered and cried against her appointed knight, while he rocked her back and forth, singing softly into her hair.

It was enough, for the moment.


End file.
